What an estate to be in...

The whir of the electric engine from the milk float. The clink of bottles as the milkman makes his way from door to door.

He heads down the driveway. A young girl is up early and knocks on her bedroom window and waves at him. He smiles and waves back.

A tabby cat licks its paws then rolls on its back across the slowly warming tarmac.
Birdsong. Churchbells from the village.

Dew on the recently cut grass. A BMX left out overnight on the lawn next to a plastic football, a Sindy doll covered in shards of grass. Matchbox cars scattered across the lawn.

It’s now 8am. A red Sierra estate sits in a driveway. The boot is packed high with bags. The bonnet is up. Dad's checking the oil and water before the family prepare to depart for a holiday to Tenby. Mum locks the house door and checks it twice.

The brother and sister open the rear doors as they clutch their comics - Mandy and Beano.
Laughter and excitement.
Click-click - seat belts on. Doors closed. Windows halfway down.
A light aircraft overhead in the whispy clouds. Dad closes the bonnet and the sound echoes across the cul-de-sac.

The air carries with it a smell of creosote from the freshly-painted panel fences.
The engine starts and "BBC....Radio 2...." is the jingle from the car stereo.

The family leaves. They all wave to the neighbour who is off to fetch the paper. Dad tests the windscreen wipers and two tiny jets of water spray onto the window as they turn out of the driveway. Over the hill and gone, off to the M5 then M4. An empty space in the driveway. The tabby cat walks across it.

An open bathroom window, the sound of a hairdryer and a radio. "Like to get to know you well" sings Howard Jones.

A boy of 11 pushes his Grifter down the side of the house. He runs a hand along the white pebbledash wall. The sound of the wheels across loose gravel, past the Renault 5 in the drive.

The sound of a strimmer and the smell of bacon.

The boy sits on his bike and faces the rolling Devon hills. His white Puma trainers barely touch the ground. Shiny red Liverpool shorts and a white tee shirt that smells of fabric softner. This tee shirt won't be quite so clean come the end of day.

He's off, and he won't be back before it's dark. Past the milkfloat, and over the hill, down through the estate, past the empty classrooms for the next 6 long weeks, and through the narrow Devon lanes. He's off to Colin's house to build a den.

Number 64 are planning a barbeque tonight. Everyone in the cul-de-sac is invited. The sun will set and the smell of charcoal and grilled food will fill the air, as well as laughter and conversation. it'll be the perfect end to another perfect summer's day on the estate, days that felt like they lasted forever.